


This String Painted Red

by Tygerrtygerr



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Red String of Fate, Soulmates, a little angsty, angela's a librarian, but theres some cute moments, i like to call this the anti soulmate soulmate au, i wouldnt tbh, if you could even consider it gency, minor gency, she just wants to be happy ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-19 00:51:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13112301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tygerrtygerr/pseuds/Tygerrtygerr
Summary: She let the red string break her once— twice, really if she thought about it, but she’d be damned if she let it break her a third time.





	This String Painted Red

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas!  
> I've been sitting on this for months. Finally gonna throw it out into the world.  
> Also, I have a [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/genuineTyger) now, give ya boi a follow. Here's my [ Tumblr ](https://tygerrtygerr.tumblr.com/) for whatever it is I do there.

Everyone lives by the belief of The Red String of Fate. No one knows how it came to be or how it exists, but most people treat it as a deity, as a doctrine they must follow because they fear what might happen if they don’t. It was a golden rule that whomever a person finds themselves tied to is the person they are meant to spend the rest of their lives with, because why else would it connect between the two? As such, the two people that it ties together are said to be destined soulmates.

The history of it all meant little to Angela Ziegler. Angela was a strong willed child and constantly questioned the existence of such a system, earning her and her parents much scrutiny from those around them. She was a smart child and the fact that people would so blindly follow something they didn’t understand was absurd to her.

It would take many, many talks with her parents to get Angela to simply accept that it just was. And she did try her hardest to accept and live by her parents beliefs, the beliefs of the community she lived in. Even then she took it all with a grain of salt. However, it fell into shambles when she turned sixteen and was finally paired up with her soulmate.

Angela grew up in a small town where everyone knew each other. Rumors and gossip were of course a natural occurrence in such a place, and it would come to be that the other adults very much liked the idea of pairing Angela with her next door neighbor Genji. They were around the same age and their parents knew each other and were good friends even before their births. They went to the same school and had mostly all of the same classes. But for the most part Angela was indifferent towards him.

Genji Shimada was a rambunctious child, constantly getting into trouble with his small group of friends. He was beyond prideful— cocky and boisterous. His parents spoiled him to death, too; if he wanted something chances were he got it. To top it all off, he had a crush on Angela and occasionally would try various stunts to try and win her affection, but Angela never gave him the time of day.

Some of the adults would say that they would end up being soulmates, a running joke she chose to ignore. At the end of the day, she didn’t want some unknown entity to choose her soulmate for her. She wanted to find her soulmate herself. And regardless, to what odds, amongst the vast space of the literal earth, countries and continents wide, would a boy who lives across the street end up being her soulmate?

On her sixteenth birthday she awakened to find the red string tied around her pinky with a faint white glow. She touched it in awe at the nonexistent weight of it between her fingers. She couldn’t believe how such a thing could truly exist. Her parents were ecstatic, naturally. They couldn’t wait to learn who her soulmate would be. Anxious to find out, Angela was filled with dread, and she had every right to be, as her string led her to the house next door to find a stupid-looking Genji smiling uncontrollably at her.

The odds, clearly, were not in her favor.

Her truce with her parents in regards to playing along with all of their ‘red string bullshit’ had become null, and she did everything in her power to protest it. To protest being with some guy she didn't even care for. Over dinner her parents would exclaim that it was simply “the will of the gods”, and her reply of “fuck the gods” didn't seem to make any difference. Her mother would try the hardest to get through to her daughter, yet over time their arguments would grow more and more heated as she wanted to make it known she'd have nothing to do with their hopeless beliefs.

Two years of nearly every day squabbling over frivolous matters would over time take its toll on her mother and she became drastically ill. It was clear she wouldn't make it very long, and while there existed the discourse between Angela and her parents about the red string and it’s nonsense, she still loved both of her parents dearly. They were the world to her.

The death of her mother was a powerful blow, strong enough to finally make Angela kneel to the hand of fate, whispers that this was her doing for going against their beliefs spread quickly through the hospital. She would cry that same night, hands clenched into the pillow she used to muffle her cries. Just how cruel was life that her mother's last words would be a pleading that Angela please just follow the gods’ will. The last words her mother ever spoke were her begging her daughter to submit to something she couldn’t believe in.

A part of her deep down knew it was her fault. Two years of fighting against her mother, two years of putting her through so much stress. She’d have to be blind to not see how she weakened with each battle they fought, her words striking through her heart like knives. Her father knew it too, even though he wouldn't outright say so. But with the look on his face when he stared at his hand at night, at the string that was now a broken dull thread constantly reminding that his wife was gone from this world much sooner than she should have been. His inability to look his own daughter in the eyes— blue eyes that looked exactly like her mother’s— he didn't have to say it for her to know. All those things finally broke Angela down and forced her to submit.

If there truly was a god, then surely it was laughing at her.

\--

She would come to settle down with Genji as her partner, firstly to satisfy her mother’s dying wish but also to move out of her parents home, to get further away from that town. Angela knew she’d never come to grow if she stayed there. They would both come to leave their small town a few years later and move into the city as Genji had received a wonderful job offer there.

That is where they would carry out the next three years of their life together; never married because there was only so far Angela was willing to submit, her mother’s deathbed considered.

Angela maintains a steady job at the city library throughout those years. She had originally wanted to pursue a medical career, but the nearest medical school was out of state. Too far for her to travel every day. Sometimes, however, she would peruse through any medical books she came across in the library in an attempt to keep her dream alive. Working there definitely had its perks considering she could read a lot and get paid for doing it.

Her life became the simple routine of going to work, coming home, and going back to bed. Over time she would learn to become accustomed to his touches; an arm around her waist or the closeness of him against her back as they slept. A part of her appreciated them, too. A touch here and there kept her from going crazy. But there was a solid line drawn between where and how he could touch her, and she made sure he knew.

It wasn’t a bad life that she lived, but it wasn’t exactly the life she imagined herself living, either.

 

* * *

 

Angela’s shift at the library was usually open to close; opening up at early morning and closing in the evening. A promotion had been available for a full time lead librarian and there wasn't a single person who didn’t think she deserved it. Ever since then she basically ran the library branch on her own. She didn’t mind much since it was a valid excuse to spend less time at home, but also the pay was a lot better, too; she was practically her own boss.

She turns the key in lock and jiggles the door’s handle to make sure it’s locked before beginning her routine walk home. Soon enough she falls in step with the sea of people making their own commutes home. She stands on the corner waiting at the crosswalk for the signal to cross, and her eyes mindlessly sweeped her surroundings.

A shimmer of gold draws her attention to a person on the corner diagonal from her own; a woman also waiting to cross. Her eyes follow the woman, tall enough that she stands out even amongst the crowd of people. With light brown skin and raven hair adorned with golden ornaments, something about her wouldn’t let Angela tear her gaze away. She found herself staring long after it was time for her to cross, watching as the woman began crossing herself, clearly unaware that she was being watched.

Angela takes note of the beautiful gold ornaments adorned in her hair, their movements as she walked, and— is that a tattoo on her face? It was subtly positioned right underneath her right eye, and though Angela couldn't make out the symbol from afar she could still tell that it accented her features nicely.

Honestly, Angela could have stared at her forever. She was probably crossing the street at a snail's pace, completely oblivious to the impatient people walking around her in aggravation, but she couldn't care less.

The stranger turned all of a sudden, right towards her general direction, and caught Angela's staring. The next thing she knew she was looking into deep brown eyes. At this point she had been caught, but she keeps staring anyway up until the woman gives her a smile— and, god, she has such a nice smile. The action, as innocent as it was , was enough to bring a tinge of red to Angela’s cheeks, and she turns her head in embarrassment before picking up her pace and scurrying home.

\--

She comes home that evening to a dinner cooked by Genji, something she came to appreciate greatly about him as she hates cooking. He always made sure to cook dinner or bring in takeout when he came home from work. As much as she didn’t fancy him, she did fancy the notion of his thoughtfulness.

They eat in one-sided silence during which Genji tells her about his day. She nods occasionally to show she’s paying attention, but in reality, her thoughts are occupied instead with thoughts of the stranger from earlier. How she stood out— or more so, called out to her. A part of her wishes to see the woman again, but the chances of that in a city as large as this is highly improbable. The thought brings a frown to her face before she even realizes it.

“Angela?”

Her attention is brought back to the present where she realizes she's idly pushing her food around her plate with her fork. Genji stares at her with mild concern as he pauses in his own eating. “Is everything alright?”

She flashes him a smile, however questionable the sincerity of it was, and nods her head. “I’m fine, Genji. I just got a little lost in thought. Today was a little rough at work,” she fibs.

She finishes her meal quickly before excusing herself to bed early. Usually she at least cleans the dishes for him, but tonight she isn’t feeling up to it. She is too eager to start a new day, wondering whether or not she could possibly run into the woman from earlier just one more time.

An entire week goes by in which she doesn't see the dark haired stranger again. Not even once.

\--

The scanning of books is the only sound heard through the quiet of the library. Angela smiles at the little boy as he hands him his book, Captain Underpants: When Laundry Day Strikes, the cover showing a boy with his butt out waiting impatiently for his underwear to wash in the machine. Evident terror and destruction can clearly be seen through the window in the background, and she finds herself questioning the concept of superpower-giving underwear. She shakes her head with a smile and watches him scamper off to his mom.

Angela gathers some of the returns into her arms to place them back on the shelves since the rush of patrons finally slowed down. She travels down the aisles looking for the proper spot for a particular book when she gets the feeling of being watched. Her eyes catch someone in the next aisle looking her way, but, as quickly as she glanced up, they turned their attention back to the shelves.

There’s a skip in her heart when she recognizes the gold ornaments adorning their hair and realizes it's the woman she saw in the streets the other day. Angela immediately recognizes the aisle she is standing in as the ‘cookbooks and recipes’ section. She pretends to look through the wall of books and once again feels that gaze back on her. This time when Angela turns with a smile, amused by the whole scenario, the stranger doesnt look away, returning the gesture and causing Angela to be the one to turn away to hide her reddening cheeks. There was something remotely teenage about the engagement.

Angela makes quick work of the rest of her books before returning to the desk and attempting to find any little thing she could use to distract herself from the eyes she could constantly feel on her. She settles with picking up where she left off in her copy of Kill as Few Patients as Possible. Less than a minute later Angela hears a thud and looks up to see the woman standing at the desk, a book placed on the counter.

She doesn't know why, but her heart freezes in her chest.

Up close she can see the symbol etched into the skin under her eye much clearer, though she still couldn't say she knew what it symbolized. She could say, however, that it did look good on her.

Something wills her to speak, to at least greet her as she would any other patron, but for some reason she can't get the words out. With a smile she takes the book, eyes glancing over the title: 50 Ways to Eat Cock. A picture of a rooster with its head tilted is printed on the front cover. Angela takes a good look at the book and then looks at the stranger with an amused expression on her face. The woman smiles back at her and Angela tried to ignore the rising heat of her face. She had such a nice smile. It was the most beautiful smile she’s ever seen.

“It was a close call between this one and 50 Shades of Chicken,” comes the stranger’s voice suddenly, throwing Angela off.

There was no denying the few nights she had spent imagining what her voice could possibly sound like, but the best imagination in the world couldn't have prepared her for the celestial sound of this woman’s smooth, butter-on-bread voice, strong and full of confidence. It was wrapped together nicely by an accent that certainly wasn’t of someone from this city.

It takes Angela few seconds to recollect herself from the sound, replaying it in her mind over and over again so she would never forget it.

“I’m more of a Cook Me Like One of Your French Hens kind of gal.”

She blurts it out before she even knows what she’s saying, mentally berating herself for being able to speak witty comebacks but not even get out a simple ‘hello’. Her response triggers a wholesome laugh from the recipient, and her laughter was just as heavenly than the sound of her voice. It sent a literal shiver throughout Angela’s body that she prayed the other woman didn’t see.

“Oh?” The stranger leans over onto the counter, resting on her forearms, and meets Angela’s gaze with a smirk. “Noted.”

They hold that gaze a little longer than normal until Angela looks away embarrassingly as she clears her throat. Her cheeks burned like never before. What was it about this person that has her so flustered?

“Um,” she pushes her glasses up further onto her face. “Library card, please?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have one. Could you sign me up?”

Angela’s eyes narrow at the sly smirk the woman gives her before typing some commands into her computer and pulling up the new applicant form. “Of course.” She prints it and hands it to the woman with a pen. “I'll just need you to fill this out.”

There's no witty comments as she takes the pen and form and fills it out quietly. She's done faster than Angela was expecting and hands the form back to her. Blue eyes skim over the paper to make sure she didn't miss anything, but also appreciating how neat her handwriting was. She finds herself straying a little longer than usual over the name.

“Fareeha,” she pronounces, looking up to make sure she pronounced it correctly. “That's a beautiful name,” she compliments without thinking, cursing herself for voicing her thoughts aloud.

“Thank you,” she replies, nonetheless. “Have we.. met somewhere before?”

The question catches her off guard and she stumbles in her actions, quickly correcting herself. “I can’t say that we have,” she replies, hiding her growing smile in the paperwork.

Again, Angela is expecting something something more from Fareeha, but she leaves it at that and only watches diligently as Angela processes her form and prints out her library card. Angela tries hard not to look up from her work, but she can feel those eyes watching her every move.

It excites her like nothing ever has before.

Only when Angela hands her the card does her gaze flick from her hand to her face briefly as she accepts it. Their fingers don’t brush during the transfer and Angela finds herself a tad disappointed that the one cliche she was looking forward to would fail her at such a crucial moment in her life.

“Well, you’re all set. Don't forget to return by the due date,” she says with a smile.

“Don’t worry; I’ll be around here quite often, I think. It was nice seeing you again, Angela.” Fareeha winks as she exits, leaving Angela tomato red as she looks down at the name tag on her shirt.

The whole interaction left her feeling a giddiness that kept her in a great mood throughout the rest of her day. Even when she returned home and sat at the dining table with Genji who had happened to have ordered from her favorite takeout restaurant, she still found herself smiling occasionally at the memory of it all.

“You seem a lot happier today, Angela,” he notes in between spoonfuls.

She hums in reply. “Today was a great day at work.”

“Ah, I’m glad to hear. By the way, your father called earlier about visiting town one of these days. I think it would be nice to pay everyone a visit.”

Angela considers it as it has been a long time since she last seen her father. Even worse was that she couldn't even remember the last time she spoke to him. He only seemed to ever call when she was at work and considering the terms they left on, Angela couldn’t build up the courage to ever call him herself. However she thinks that perhaps a visit would be nice, and as she was still feeling the high from her earlier interaction with Fareeha, she tells Genji to let her father know they’ll plan something out.

\--

The next couple of weeks Fareeha returns to the library occasionally, just as she said she would, spending time with Angela as she gets her work done. They had come to know each other pretty well over time. Angela enjoyed every second of Fareeha’s company, especially how she made a habit out of finding books with amusing titles.

Angela stares down at the copy of Your Wood Can Last For Centuries in her hands and looks at the tanned woman with a flat face. It was obvious she liked finding books with hidden innuendos. “Surely you don’t actually read these,” she laughs. “This books is about decaying wood in homes, for one. There’s only apartment buildings in this city…”

Fareeha, who had taken her usual position leaning over the counter, straightens up and acts out a fake look of hurt with her hand on her chest. “Are you saying, Angela, that I may not own a house somewhere other than this city?”

Angela feels a slight shiver run through her body at the sound of her name. No matter how many times she hears it, Fareeha’s voice always does that to her. “Do you?” she challenges.

A smirk. “I don’t. But maybe someday. This book has useful information,” she jokes, eliciting a laugh from Angela. “I always did want to live in a more rural setting,” she suddenly muses aloud, her expression turning dreamy as she imagines it in her head.

Angela smiles at her expression. It was cute. “Why don’t you?”

It’s a simple question, but the way her face changes so sudden to a scowl happens so quick and was so brief that Angela would think she imagined it, so quickly replaced with a sympathetically cheerful look instead. Fareeha sighs and her eyes fall to her hands on the counter, toying with a particular finger before clenching her hand into a light fist. There was a hint of something in her expression, in the depths of her eyes, that felt familiar to Angela. Without acknowledging it, her own hands were toying with her pinky finger.

“Sometimes life just has different plans for you, I guess.”

In a moment of comfort Angela reaches out to place her hand on top of Fareeha’s. A spark tingles against her fingers at the contact. A spark she was certain Fareeha felt, too, when their eyes met. She didn’t know what kind of troubles Fareeha might have in her life, but she did feel the tug on her own heart in response to the other woman’s feelings.

“You can do anything you want, Fareeha. It’s your life to live.”

And even though she was speaking to Fareeha, Angela knew those words were just as much meant for herself as well.

Ever since then, Fareeha began to come by the library much more often. Just about every day, in fact. The times would vary, but she always came by. Sometimes, she wouldn't even check out any books, but just come by to chat or walk with Angela throughout the library as she put back her returns, finding interestingly titled books along the way.

Angela laugh when Fareeha presents her with a book titled Games to Play with Your Pussy, the cover sporting a grey cat with white paws on its back playing with a ball of yarn. Of course she laughs; she laughs every time. It becomes a sound she realizes she had been missing from her life.

The library becomes a source of happiness for Angela, particularly whenever Fareeha was there. That’s when Angela is always smiling, constantly laughing, and she can’t remember how long it’s been since she felt like this: happy.

Much too long.

She comes to appreciate Fareeha for bringing so much joy into her life. When they’re together in the library it’s as if nothing else really matters. There is only her and Fareeha. There is no Genji. There are no red strings. There is no fate, dictating what her life should and shouldn’t be. It was like a sanctuary where Angela could finally live something as close to a normal life as she wished. But most importantly, out of everything she appreciated, Angela appreciated Fareeha for being Fareeha.

\--

A silly game the two had come to play together during the library’s after hours was simple hide and seek. Or at least something like that. Usually Fareeha would stay with Angela even after the library was closed, and the former would disappear down the aisles as Angela returned books to their shelves. It had been a joke at first, Angela calling out to her to find out where she was and Fareeha refusing to answer, forcing her to physically search for the woman herself. Eventually Angela began to use sneakier tactics to seek her out, leading to Fareeha trying just as hard to stay hidden and thus creating a fun game of cat and mouse.

Once she noticed Fareeha had slithered away during their idle chit-chat, Angela already knew she had began her little game.

“Fareehaaa,” Angela sang as she tiptoed down the middle of the aisles. Her first place to check was always the section for engineering books. She didn’t know if it was subconscious or not, but Fareeha would always head to that area first. She was disappointed when she found the section empty, but her ears picked up the faint jingling of a certain someone's hair ornaments in one direction. Almost simultaneously, she hears the sound of a book hitting the carpeted floor in the other direction.

“Fareeha Amari, I know you’re not throwing my books to distract me.”

“Sorry!”

Angela whips around to where the voice came from, rushing as quick as she could to where she was certain Fareeha would be. She was confused however when she came up empty, sighing in defeat. “Okay, okay, I give up. You can come out no—”

The shriek that pierced through the library reverberated throughout the empty halls as Angela's feet were lifted from the ground and her body swung around in circles. Her hands immediately went to the arms wrapped around her midsection in an effort to secure herself and also try free herself from Fareeha’s unexpected hold. Their laughter mingled together as they twirled to even a point where Fareeha lost balance, falling onto her rear. Angela in her arms was enough force to send her flat onto her back and the two lay on the floor dying of laughter. Angela rolls off from the body beneath hers. She probably wasn't making trying to breath any easier.

They now lay side by side staring up at the ceiling as the last of their laughter finally subsided, the only sound in the establishment being that of their heavy breathing calming down into quiet breaths.

Angela turns her head to face Fareeha whose eyes were closed and face held one of the biggest grins Angela’s seen as she came down from her high. The blonde found herself reciprocating the expression as she looked on, taking in everything she could in that moment. Burning it into her memory.

Fareeha was just so beautiful. In this moment and the next, and every one prior.

It was then she would decide to turn over to face her, catching Angela (once again) in the act of ogling. This time they were so close, though, and their proximity gave it a whole different feeling. Angela thought the sound of her heart beating had become so loud that she would be shushing herself had the library actually been open.

“I thought that gaze felt familiar,” Fareeha jokes. Angela can do little to hide her obvious blush. “Do you want to hear a secret?”

She raises an eyebrow, curious as to what kind of secret Fareeha would have to tell with them both laying on the floor. “Do tell.”

“Come a bit closer,” she whispers, beckoning her closer with her fingers.

She exhales a small chuckle at the absurdity of it all but scoots over regardless, just close enough to put he within whisper range. She waits patiently as Fareeha sits up a little to whisper in her ear.

“Blue is my favorite color.”

Angela turns to face her, having expected her to say literally anything else, and oh, what a mistake that was. Her gaze was captured, entranced by dark brown orbs that seemed to look so deeply into her own. She was positive she had stopped breathing at some point. It never failed to amaze her how Fareeha did these things to her.

How long they lay like that, staring into each other’s souls no doubt, she wasn’t quite sure. She wasn’t even sure when she had reached out a hand to gently run across the black ink on her face. Her finger traces the lines of its shape.

“What does it mean?”

“It’s a symbol for protection. My mother had one like it. I decided to get one too.”

A whisper. Angela barely heard the words leave her own mouth. “It’s beautiful.”

Just like you.

Fareeha smiles at the complement, placing a hand over Angela’s own. “Thank you, Angela.”

\--

It isn't until she is laying in bed that night, Genji fast asleep besides her, that she realizes it.

She stares at her hand stretched out in the air in front of her and the red string running from her pinky to the man next to her. In that same hand she can feel Fareeha’s touch and the way it makes her heart bear twice as fast. She can hear Fareeha’s voice in her ears even though she is nowhere near. In such a short amount of time that woman has become one of the most important pieces of her day. The thought of going only one day without seeing her face weighed heavily on her heart.

And it is in this moment she realizes that she likes Fareeha Amari in a way that she wasn’t quite familiar with.

She doesn’t act on it at first, because to be honest she hadn’t particularly liked anyone before. As a child she kept to herself, and you don’t make too many friends when you disagree with what all the other kids believed in when you disagreed with what all the other kids believed in. Then she had dove into this fake relationship with Genji, whom she certainly had no feelings for. At least, not on a romantic level. Yet, with each new day spent in with Fareeha’s company, with each new flutter in her stomach and skip in her heart, there was no way she could deny that this is how it feels to really like someone.

Over their next few interactions Angela looks for any signs that might imply that Fareeha could feel the same way towards her. Things like the way Fareeha would lean so close to her when she helps her reach a book too high for her to reach. How their hands would brush accidently and the glimpse of a smile she could see from the contact. Even when the library gets a little busy, Angela always notices from the corner of her eye the way Fareeha watches her as she works the front desk.

Surely she must feel something?

It takes a lot of willpower on her own behalf, but one day Angela steels herself to ask Fareeha out somewhere. All of their time had been spent together within library walls, and she yearned to see how a change in setting would affect things.

She’s feeling anxious as she waits for Fareeha to walk through the front doors, her eyes constantly peering up at the clock on the wall. Lately, she had been coming by around the same time so she was a little off schedule.

A few kids come in to check out books and she slacks momentarily in her vigilance in order to attend to them. By the time she’s finished she looks up to spot Fareeha in a nearby aisle. Immediately a bright smile graces her features at the sight of her, the familiar feeling in her chest beginning to unfold.

But when Fareeha turns to face her that smile almost instantly disappears.

Even from the distance Angela can see Fareeha looks distraught. The frown and furrowing of her brows are a dramatic change from the usual brightness she gives off. Not to mention she hadn’t even bothered coming to greet her first. She looked conflicted and very much deep in thought, but Angela couldn’t think of a reason to why she might be so bothered. She could only hope whatever it was wasn’t too serious. She didn’t like this look on her.

Fareeha’s face remains set in a frown as she looks through the shelves, but Angela can see she isn’t really looking for a book but really looks to be looking for someone else. She doesn’t look Angela’s way, not even once. Her actions confused the blonde. Especially when she eventually comes to the counter with a book titled Life’s Not Fair.

Angela cocks an eyebrow at her choice of book for today, nowhere close to the humorous titles publications she usually brings over. She glances up at her but she doesn’t meet her gaze, and Angela finds herself frowning herself at the negative energy the woman is putting out. “Fareeha, are you okay? You seem… upset…”

“I’m fine.”

“It doesn’t seem like it… This isn’t because of something I did, is it?” Angela tries to rack her brain for any behavior that might have bothered Fareeha, but can’t seem to think of any possibilities.  
“What, no no no. It’s not you.” She takes a look around again, and this time when she looks back she looks square into concerned blue eyes. There’s worry and sadness in her eyes. Angela wants to reach out. She wants to figure out why, but she’s not sure how to. “Angela, we need to talk.”

“Funny, I had something I wanted to talk to you about, too. Well, it's more like a question really,” she mutters the last bit, before clearing her throat. Best to do it now and get it out of the way right? “I was just— I was just wondering if you’d like to go out and do something with me sometime? Today? Tomorrow? Whenever is good for you, really. If you want, that is…” Angela stops upon realizing she was beginning to ramble.

Hesitantly, she looks to Fareeha, unsure what to expect. Would she be mad? Politely turn her down? Of all the possibilities Angela thought of, the single tear that began its slow descent down the side of her face wasn’t one of them. It was stark contrast to the smile she wore, no matter the faint sadness it held. Fareeha scoffs, and a hand comes up to slide down the front of her face.

“Angela, I… I’m so sor—”

A loud thump of books being set on the counter make them both jump as a woman made her way to stand next to Fareeha, nonchalantly interlacing their arms. Angela sends her a questionable look, her own face contorted in confusion mixed with a tinge of hurt.

“So this is where you’ve been spending your time while I’ve been away? I don’t see why, the selection here is mediocre at best,” the new woman voices in mild annoyance. “I did find a couple good reads, though. Get these for me and meet me back in the car. But hurry now, we have to make our reservations,” she explains as she pulls back her sleeve to reveal the expensive golden watch on her wrist.

Angela takes in the woman’s appearance. She was dressed very professionally. Her shirt alone probably cost more than Angela’s entire outfit. She has a beauty about her that couldn't help but make Angela feel inferior in her presence. A part of her wonders who she could be in relation to Fareeha, even though she knows exactly who she is. Angela isn’t stupid.

As if to make things worse and confirm her suspicions, the woman reaches up to place a kiss on the corner of Fareeha’s lips.

Angela could already feel the knife tearing its way through her heart. How had she not expected this outcome? She didn’t even need to look for it to know there was a thread connecting the two.

How could she have been so naive? To think that in the library she was untouchable from all her troubles, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

She watches as the woman leaves, Fareeha left standing there with her gaze staring pointedly at the floor. She said nothing afterwards. Her thoughts were littered with how stupid she must have been to think they could ever have been anything more than friends.

In an effort to get away, to be anywhere else but there, Angela makes quick work of scanning the books and placing them in a single stack before excusing herself. She needed to be alone. She doesn’t look back, even as Fareeha calls for her. The sound of her voice only makes the tears fall down faster.

She goes to the bathroom where she cries to herself, locking up in one of the stalls farthest to the end. It's the first time she has cried in so long that she finds herself crying over this sudden turn of events but also every other messed up thing about the life she’s been living. Things she has been holding in all this time all hit her at once. She cries over five years of living a life she doesn’t want to live. She cries for the untimely death of her mother— undoubtedly because of her own actions. She cries over just how lonely she’s truly been before Fareeha came along. That the one person that truly brought her joy was taken by another.

But most of all, she cries because she absolutely detests that some magical red string has so much control over her life. Acknowledging it gets her nowhere, ignoring it gets her nowhere… The feeling of anger only fuels her tears further, the hands her face are buried in clench into fists against her skin. She squeezes them so hard she can feel her nails biting into the skin of her palms.

Pale fingers smooth over the indented marks she made, eyes rolling over to the smallest appendage and bringing into the focus the cause of all her misfortune. The same vibrant red with the same dim white glow to it. She looks at it with disgust. The tears blur her vision.

Even in the safe haven she created for herself she couldn’t escape this life, when all she has wanted is nothing more than to be free of it.

By the time Angela comes out, having tried her best to hide any signs that she had been crying, Fareeha is long gone. But she hadn’t expected her to stay anyway.

When she steps out of that bathroom, having let out all that she needed to let out, Angela comes out with a new resolve. She let the red string break her once— twice, really if she thought about it, but she’d be damned if she let it break her a third time.

\--

An entirety of two weeks pass during which Angela doesn’t see Fareeha.

Her days begin to look exactly how they did before the woman had entered her life with the difference that at night she could still hear her voice in her head and feel her touch against the skin of her palms, and it drove her mad in more ways than one that this woman was ingrained so deep into her being. The longer she went without seeing her she found that Fareeha would occupy more and more of her thoughts. It was outright frustrating considering she had been trying so hard to put a damper on her feelings.

At home she tried not to let her emotions show too much, but she didn’t doubt Genji could see something was wrong albeit not knowing what. Angela resigned herself to sleeping on the sofa with the excuse that she wanted to be alone, which in her defense was true. She had lost most of her appetite and would just barely eat, even when it was her favorite meals. All in all she had just been in a slump.

As time would have it, the weekend they had planned to visit home was soon approaching. She had put her feelings to the side to discuss their travel plans, but was also starting to question whether a trip home was still a good idea. Her head was everywhere but in its right place. It left her a lot more stressed than usual, especially at work, and today in particular a few schools in the area held a field trip to the library. All the children were to be signed up for a library card, taught how to check out books, and all the other workings of the library. Her boss did send in extra help, but even amongst other librarians she had still been beyond busy the entire evening. That combined with her still lingering thoughts of a certain someone left her feeling overwhelmed. She was more than relieved when the groups of children had finally made their leave, even despite the huge mess she was left with.

She didn’t ask her helpers to stay extra and clean up with her, both because she figured they wouldn’t want to but also because she had kinda wanted to be alone anyway. She thought it would keep her mind occupied, but she couldn’t have been more wrong.

Angela lets out a sigh as she reaches up to place another book from her cart back onto the shelf. She was in one of the back sections of the building, having worked her way there from the front, and had just picked up another book when she hears the click of the front doors opening. Her body stills as she attempts to listen more clearly, the sound of the door closing and slow footprints heard in the distance. She must have forgotten to lock the doors, but she figured the ‘closed’ sign combined with the dimmed lights inside would be enough to show that the building wasn't open for service.

“I’m sorry but the library is closed for the evening,” she calls as she heads to see who was there.

She barely makes it out of the aisle when she’s face to face with the last person she would have expected to see, nearly colliding into each other. Angela is more than surprised to see Fareeha standing before her considering she had been absent for the past couple of weeks. Every part of her mind wanted to be angry at the sight of the woman, but her body betrayed her. Instead, her heart began to beat twice as fast, especially so when she took in her appearance.

Her hair was tied into a short ponytail with hair framing the sides of her face, and the black v-neck she wore gave such a clear view of her defined collarbone. Angela tried to shake her head of the thoughts going through her mind. She had thought Fareeha made it very clear that their time together had been a mistake. She shouldn’t be thinking any such thoughts about her. Not when she knows exactly who Fareeha has waiting for her back at home.

“Angela.”

She curses herself for the light shiver that travels throughout her body at the sound of her name, spoken exactly how she would dream of it every other night.

“Fareeha…”

The taller woman pauses as if unsure what to say next, and Angela can see the look of uncertainty flash in her eyes and the complete lack of confidence that is written all over her. “How are you,” she settles with asking. Her hands inch their way into the pockets of her pants.

There was so many things Angela could have replied with. Things she should say, things she knew she shouldn’t say, and things she wanted to say.

“I’m fine” She sees Fareeha wince at her tone of voice, surely bringing up the memory of her using those exact same words the last time they spoke. Fareeha doesn’t say anything else and Angela finds herself wanting to get back to her work, picking up the next book from the pile. “The library is closed.”

‘Angela, wait, I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s okay, Fareeha.” She tried to hide the crack in her voice when she spoke, turning fully into her work once more as she placed a book on the shelf before reaching for another. It’s two weeks overdue, but she assumes Fareeha is here to apologize and settle things between them. It isn’t necessary, though. “I understand.”

“No, it’s not— Just let me explain, please.”

Angela shakes her head as she takes up another book. She didn’t want to listen. To have Fareeha further hurt her with whatever she has to say.

Of course, the book she grabs belongs on one of the top shelves, and of course she left her step stool in one of the other aisles. Angela frowns to herself, muttering quiet obscenities all the while as she forced herself to try and reach, pushing off as far onto the tips of her toes as she could. But even with the extra height she couldn't quite reach it, and she growls quietly to herself in frustration. She’s ready to give up and fetch the stool, too bothered to be bothered by something as simple as a book, but the feeling of a body pressed against her back and the familiar touch of a hand against hers stops her in her tracks as Fareeha takes the book from her hands and pushes it into place.

Angela gasps at the suddenness of the touch and accidentally leans back into the body behind her. She felt Fareeha’s hand on her waist to help keep their balance, and heard, more than she felt, the deep inhale from behind her as Fareeha breathed in the scent of her hair.

She found herself frozen in place. Her hand was still reaching upwards, even though the book had long since been put away, and was intertwined lightly with Fareeha’s own. The simple gesture combined with the pressure of the hand on her waist reminds her of just how much she missed her touch.

It also brought back the memory of the woman bound to Fareeha, who most certainly receives those same touches and feels the same effect from them. The thought of her melting under less than innocent touches from these same hands brings back the dark emotions Angela had been brooding over as of late. Her hand clenches into a fist and out of Fareeha’s gasp. She attempts to push away from her, but Fareeha holds her firmly in place.

“Angela, please,” she pleads. Her voice no longer holds the authority Angela had come to appreciate. It was small and low, but even then it still held a huskiness that send shivers down her spine.

Reluctantly she turns to face her, leaning lightly against the shelf at her back. She immediately takes in just how close they are and just how vulnerable and how broken Fareeha looked. Whatever negative thoughts and emotions she was holding onto melted away in an instant at the sight.

God, she had missed her so much.

Before she could help herself her hand was hovering next to Fareeha’s face. Hesitating. Unsure whether she could, or, really, if she should. A reassuring hand on top of hers leads her the rest of the way and she smiles faintly at the warmth against her palm. Her thumb smooths gently across her cheek. She almost wanted to outright come out and explain to Fareeha how she felt right then and there, caught up in a moment. But there was still something holding her back.

“I’m sorry, Fareeha.”

Angela feels the incoming frown against her hand before she even sees it. “Don’t be.

“Remember when I said we needed to talk?”

Of course she remembers. She remembers everything about that day. Naturally she assumed whatever Fareeha had to talk to her about would involve that woman. That it would be full of things she didn’t want to hear. Regardless, Angela nods her head slowly in confirmation, still a little flustered with how close they stood in front of each other.

Fareeha takes both of her hands in hers before she speaks, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I wanted to tell you everything then, but I was too late.”

Fareeha goes on to explain the relationship she has with her soulmate. How they rarely see each other since she’s a top ranking business woman, constantly flying from place to place and rarely, if ever, spending time at home. Apparently, her appearance that aday was just as much a surprise to Fareeha as it was to Angela. She had no idea the woman would be back in town. And since she had gone through the trouble of stopping by, Fareeha had spent the last two weeks with her, but it just wasn’t the same.

“Angela, the time I’ve spent in this library with you has brought a joy into my life that I had been missing for a long time. I won’t lie to you, but once she came back I was conflicted about everything I was feeling. I thought it might be wrong, but it felt so right.

“I spent this time with her, but I just… I couldn’t…” she pauses. “I couldn't stop thinking about you the entire time.” Fareeha looks down at their joined hands, unclasping them to grip her pink between trembling fingers before closing her hands into tight fists. Her actions are something that Angela recognizes. She sees the unspoken feeling and knows exactly what Fareeha is thinking. She wasn’t prepared, though, for the next few words to fall from her lips. “I couldn’t stop wishing she was you.

Confusion is written all over Angela’s face. This was nowhere close to where she imagined this would be going. She listened to every word. She heard everything, even that which was no said outright, and it still wasn't what she had expected at all. She could only stand their frozen as her brain tried to process everything.

Her eyes look up to meet Fareeha’s then, which was a little hard since her head was tilted down to the side as if in embarrassment for saying all that she said. She looked so nervous, so unsure, and Angela still found herself trying to get used to the change from her usually confident self. Her doubts were made clear in the way her thumbs ran anxious circles against Angela’s palms and her brow creased with worry.

“Fareeha, I-I’m not sure what to say…”

It was true. Angela found it hard to find the words to reply to Fareeha’s sudden confession. She regretted her phrasing, though, at the flash of disappointment in brown eyes. She hadn’t meant it in a negative way at all.

“Its okay. You don’t have to,” Fareeha reassures her with a faint smile.

Even though this was all so sudden and just a tad overwhelming, Angela felt that she did have to. Was this not what she wanted? Had she not planned to confess these same feelings to Fareeha not too long ago? Here she is, presented with exactly what she wanted and she was too afraid to do anything. Maybe it was because she had become complacent in this life she lived. She knew this might change things. No... It would change things.

For so long she had thought she was alone in her views of this world. That she shouldn’t be forced to spend the rest of her life with someone because of something so unexplainable. And now standing before her is someone who potentially feels the same as her. This was her moment.

It all started to make a little bit of sense now. How out of all the people i the crowd that day, it was Fareeha she spotted. Like in a world of gray she stood out in color. The fact that Fareeha seemed to be drawn to the library over and over again, the constant thoughts of Fareeha on her mind; it was all leading to this moment, no? And maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of a new beginning.

“No, I do,” she answers, her mind made up in its decision. “You didn’t come here to say all of that without expecting a response.”

“Well, I actually didn’t expect to get this far,” Fareeha laughs nervously. Angela relishes the sound.

She tucks a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear, hand lingering to find its spot once again on the side of her face. “Do you want to go further?”

Angela feels Fareeha’s face warm in her hand as she slowly trails down her face until her thumb comes to brush against the corner of her mouth. Dark brown eyes meet hers then, silently questioning her words. Angela reassures her with a small smile.

“Yes.” Her reply is barely above a whisper.

“Then go.”

She hesitates at first, eyes still trying to read Angela’s as if this was some sort of dream. Angela’s gaze is reassuring as she trails her fingers across dark skin, and Fareeha finds herself inching forward ever so slowly to close the distance between them.

The contact sparks something inside of Angela she didn’t even know existed; something she most definitely has been missing all her life. This isn’t her first kiss, no, despite everything, but it is the first one she’s felt more than just physically. There’s a gentle aggressiveness in the way Fareeha’s mouth moves against hers and Angela feels herself melting into the feeling. Her arms wrap around Fareeha’s neck to steady herself as she no longer trusts her legs. She is even more grateful when she feels strong arms wrap around her waist.

When they finally break apart they take a moment to collect themselves, forehead against forehead, the only sound being of their breathing. It’s so surreal. Never had Angela felt anything like this before. Everything about it felt so right that Angela knew there was no way Fareeha wasn’t made for her and vice versa. She knows that together they’d find a way to create their own destiny together. Angela’s hand finds Fareeha’s and she interlocks their pinkies together. Whether it was in promise or as a simple gesture of understanding, she wasn’t yet sure.


End file.
